


After The Rescue

by afteriwake



Series: A Thousand Different Lives [13]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Anthea is M, BAMF Molly Hooper, Bold Molly, Canon Universe, F/M, Flirting, Flirty Molly, Intrigued Sherlock, Kissing, Missions Gone Wrong, Molly Saves Sherlock, POV Molly Hooper, Post-Mission, Pre-Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Rough Kissing, Sally is Q, Sherlock Finds Out, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing, Sherlock Interferes, Spies & Secret Agents, molly is a spy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 11:26:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10684341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: She knows Sherlock is going to have questions about what he saw, about her being a spy. She doesn’t quite expect such a...passionate...response, however.





	After The Rescue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chitarra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chitarra/gifts).



> This fic was inspired by a prompt from **Chitarra** that went “ _'I just walked in on you kicking some serious ass and oh my god did a laser just come out of your watch are you James Bond?' What about Sherlock walking in on Molly? :-) And he could discover that Sally is her 'Q,' and Mycroft knows about the whole thing because Anthea is in charge of it._ ” [based on a list of spy AUs](http://penaltywaltz.tumblr.com/post/150489293903/spy-aus) I posted on Tumblr. I had so much fun with this and _might_ be persuaded to continue this verse.

This? Was going to change _everything_.

“It’s not what it looks like, really,” Molly said, shoving her wrist into the pocket of her spy suit. Oh, bless Sally for making sure the thing had pockets because really, Sherlock was gawking at her like she’d grown another head or two and hiding the laser emitting watch was a start to looking somewhat normal. Not that she looked like her normal self; she was in a tactical suit with a belt full of pouches filled with things that would make James Bond jealous, and while the tactical suit was skin tight and looked black it had a hood currently at the back of her neck that she could pull over her head to make herself practically invisible, and…

And well, she looked like a bloody cat burglar more than Molly Hooper, resident pathologist at Barts. Looking like she’d grown a second head was a rather appropriate reaction. But now _really_ wasn’t the time for it. 

She grabbed Sherlock by the wrist and it seemed to snap him out of things. “Molly...”

“I can’t explain right now, but I need you to trust me.” She was surprised his jaw didn’t tighten at that, and it was a good start. She took the pocket grappling hook she had and aimed it for the hole she’d made, then shot it through. “Hold onto me, Sherlock, and hold on tight.”

He did, bless him. He wasn’t balking, wasn’t arguing, just doing as was told and, with luck, she’d get them both out of the situation by the skin of their arses. He had no idea how close he’d come to getting them both killed. “John is--”

“Fine and out of the way. I knocked him out with gas Sally made. I just didn’t know where _you_ were.” She shook her head. “Your brother said it was handled. Couldn’t you listen to him for once?” She attached her end of the hook to the heaviest object in the room, then prepared to leave. “Remember, Sherlock: hold on tight.”

He tightened his hold on her and they stepped together one-two-three to the hole and then out into the dark night, moments before she dimly heard people enter the room. John was safe; she’d made sure of that before she began her dual-pronged search for Sherlock and the information she needed to gather. The concern now was getting _them_ to safety and giving her report to Anthea.

They were a rather clandestine trio, her, Sally and Anthea. Sherlock thought he knew everything about his brother but the depths of his brother’s reach into the government was something Sherlock was completely in the dark about. During the two years Sherlock was “dead,” Molly had demanded to be able to help him, and Anthea had become her handler. It was much to her surprise that Sally was recruited as her “Q” of sorts, but knowing the skills she had with gadgetry she wasn’t surprised. The three of them had lived a dual life of women of little notice for the most part and then, when Her Majesty demanded it, an elite team of super spies at any given moment.

And damn it all they were _good_. Good enough that when Sherlock rose from the dead again like Lazarus she and her team still took on the odd assignment, like tonight. Only _now_ Lazarus’s long shadow made things more...complicated.

And she supposed explanations were owed.

Once they were on the ground she set the grappling hook to self-destruct and then went for her safe zone. Sally never built anything without a self-destruct feature, bless her, and they frequently came in handy. Molly had scars on her body from the close scrapes she’d gotten into and if it hadn’t been for fail safes and her absolute trust in Sally and Anthea there may have been times the scars could have been worse. It had been hard enough to explain them to Tom, and she knew that had been a factor in the end of their relationship.

Her mind wondered almost idly if there might be a time she and Sherlock could compare. Her blood was heated now, which usually meant a cool-down workout and yoga routine. Maybe something else tonight, depending on how this conversation went.

But the conversation had to come first.

Once she knew they were safe, she signaled for her team to picked them up. She knew they were nearby so it would be quicker than usual. She sat on the ground against a tree and looked at Sherlock. “I’m sure you have questions.”

“More than you can imagine,” he murmured.

“I’ll answer as many as I can,” she said, reaching up and pulling her hair out of the elastic band it was in and letting it fall down around her shoulders. Sherlock watched her, his gaze intense, and she paused in running her fingers through it. “What?”

“You. This. I never expected any of it,” he said.

“You used to say ‘you see, but do not observe,’” she said with a smirk. “Sally and Anthea are involved too.”

“I don’t care about them,” he said, moving to her, squatting in front of her with one foot on either side of the single leg she had stretched out. “You’re the one fascinating me right now.”

“Because I saved your arse?” she teased.

“Because this is like a fantasy come true,” he said. “Though I never had this particular fantasy before.”

She reached forward, teasing the top button of his shirt before running her finger along the open collar. She was never this bold, never so wanton, but here and now it all was different. “We have a little time. Make the best of it, Sherlock.”

He didn’t need much more of an invitation, moving forward and pressing his lips to hers, urging her into a more upright position, clinging to him, panting when the kiss broke.

She hoped her pick-up team ran several hours late all of a sudden...


End file.
